


Now, don't mess this up.

by electronic_elevator



Category: Original Work
Genre: Embarrassment, F/M, Gen, Omorashi, not quite ageplay but veering into that territory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 11:45:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19109011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electronic_elevator/pseuds/electronic_elevator
Summary: A college sophomore has anxiety and a full bladder during an important career event. // Written April 2017.





	Now, don't mess this up.

_'Now, don’t mess this up.'_

That’s the thought that echoed through James’s head — well, his entire life, really, as he was a bit of an anxious person, but particularly since he got the invitation. 

James, a college sophomore majoring in business, as well as a few of his classmates received this invitation to a business dinner from one of their professors. A small chain store was thinking of opening up a new branch in the area, and some of the company’s moderate-level executives as well as the prospective manager of the store were scheduled to meet with town planners and the owners of the property to discuss logistics over dinner after viewing the site. The college was hosting and, rather than asking for payment, requested permission for a few of its business students to sit in and observe the meeting. 

So, James as one of the younger students was especially grateful for the opportunity, and tried very hard to ensure the evening’s success. As it was only the previous semester that he’d declared his major, he owned no suits but borrowed one from the college’s career services. A few hours before the dinner, he showered, shaved, and spritzed himself with the fancy cologne from his mother that he rarely used. He spent the fifteen minutes before he left his dorm practicing introductions and probable q-and-a’s in the mirror. He did not remember to use the bathroom before he left.

After all of this prep, James felt reasonably capable of handling the night, and walked in and went through his rehearsed introductions rather easily. 

But, things were going downhill very quickly. 

The evening opened with a presentation, which continued as appetizers had been served and eaten and continued through at least three refills of James’s water glass, by his own count. He’d began to need to use the bathroom, but he couldn’t, absolutely couldn’t, leave in the middle of the presentation. Unfortunately for him, his anxiety about the situation made him dry-mouthed, and he kept sipping his water, trying very hard to focus on the discussion at hand. 

When the presenter clicked to a recap and conclusion slide, James sat up straighter in his seat, hope shining in his eyes. He could excuse himself briefly now, right? Until…

“Now we’d like to break on the formal discussion to allow everyone to eat their dinners. Likewise, we have two business students from the college at each table - if you will, please introduce yourselves and speak with them a bit about your careers! I am sure they’ll be interested, as they so attentively listened to my presentation just now,” the speaker explained. 

With that, the entrees were being served. James almost bit his lip, but chided himself for the expression of weakness and covered up the urge with another sip. 

“I’m Penelope Amarina!” the other student at his table proclaimed self-confidently. James looked at her across the table. She had dark brown ringlets and was dressed in gray. He’d seen her in a few shared classes, so he concluded she, too, was a sophomore. After they chittered for a while about her studies, they turned to him.

“I’m… James Lazlo,” he said, and almost cringed at now nervous he sounded compared with Penelope’s self-assured greeting. Still, the businesspeople at the table seemed not to comment and peppered him with the same casual questions Penelope had received. 

Their conversation progressed evenly from there, and he got to hear some interesting snippets about real-life working in business. However, as it progressed, he grew more and more uncomfortable. He picked at his food, squirming a bit under the table. He hoped no one noticed the way he was pressing his legs together. 

By the time most people had made a significant dent in their plates, James’s focus on the conversation was impacted. The attention that remained was mostly “listening for a natural break during which he could excuse himself.” However, one did not come, and he couldn’t help but stress over the fact that he’d seen no one ELSE leave the room. Then, a spasm rolled through him and he shivered, making a choked noise and closing his eyes. A second later when he opened them again, everyone’s eyes were on him. James flushed and looked down at his food, which he’d eaten only a bit of. 

“James, is everything okay?” Someone asked.  
“You’ve hardly eaten - do you feel okay, hun?” That was Penelope’s voice. It was warm and caring. The kind of voice he’d trust with his predicament if he hadn’t been surrounded by also working professionals who he’d like to make a good impression on. 

“I-I’m good,” he stammered out instead. “I guess I just filled up on the bread that came with the salad!” This joke was deemed enough to diffuse suspicion from the majority of the table, who laughed rehearsedly, but Penelope only chuckled a bit, still searching his face with her hazel eyes. 

James made a more concerted effort to eat his food, managing to clear away most of the vegetables and potatoes. The next time he felt a sudden swell of need, his hand shot down to grab himself, but when glances moved his way he just sort of brushed his arm down his leg in a smoothing motion, which was of course ineffectual. As a result, he felt a tiny bit of wetness dribble into his underwear and inhaled sharply. 

No one even looked this time, which would be good were it not because they’d grown accustomed to his inability to sit still or stay quiet. It was extremely embarrassing. 

Penelope, meanwhile, seemed to thrive in the environs, which at least kept the pressure off James. Maybe while they’re focused on her I can make to leave… he thought, but just then the server came to their table with a water pitcher. 

“Does anyone need a refill?” they asked. Most glasses at the table were empty, so they began pouring, starting with James’s glass. The sound of water trickling was louder than anything he’d ever heard and it felt like his bladder was being pulled on. His legs were pressed together as much as they could be, and he involuntarily dug his feet into the floor, biting his lip and pressing his hands to the table to stop him from grabbing himself. Another leak squeezed out despite his efforts. 

There’s no way I can make it to the bathroom, James thought as the waiter moved to the third glass. Like the thought was permission, he began to leak again, this time unable to stop the flow. He felt his face heat up, terror filling his chest. He was wetting himself. At an important business dinner. In front of people who theoretically represented internship and job opportunities. Maybe two rooms away from a bathroom, because he was too damn shy to interrupt to get up and go. Tears pricked at his eyes. He felt the warmth drip down from between his legs to his butt, pooling in his chair and oh god these are fabric chairs seeping into it before trickling down his pantlegs into his shoes and onto the floor. The waiter filling the last glass covered any sound the trickle might be making. When they walked away, though, James was still peeing. Conversation picked back up and someone directed a question his way. James panicked. He opened his mouth to speak but could only stammer out “Er— I—“ before bursting into tears… loudly enough to turn heads from the other tables. 

After a second of stunned silence, someone behind him said, “Oh my god, he wet himself. Is he okay???” 

At this, Penelope’s eyes flew open and she stood, a hand on her chest, holding her necklace.

Well, no avoiding it now. James stood up, repulsed at the feeling of more liquid dripping down his pants and the knowledge that his mess was on display to the room, before running out of the room with his hands covering his red face, pride completely in tatters. Penelope trotted close behind, her motherly instincts kicking in. 

“James!” she called, and he cringed, but could say nothing through his tears. As soon as they made it out of the room, she grabbed his shoulder. He cringed again and moved to cover his head, seemingly afraid. 

“Wait, wait, it’s okay. Honey, are you okay? Does this happen often?”

“Nooooooooo,” he whined, peering through his fingers. Penelope was unsure which question he was answering. 

“Let’s get you all cleaned up, okay? Into some nice dry pants. How does that sound?” Penelope couldn’t help slipping into talk really meant for a small child. James was confused, which slowed his sobs. That would be patronizing from anyone else. It was her voice, but also her personality. Anyone else would’ve tried to be patronizing, or would’ve scolded him for being an idiot. 

“…Okay,” James murmured, wiping his runny nose on the back of his jacket sleeve, but then pulling a face, looking at the smear. “This is Career Services’ suit…” he whined, his voice spiking higher-pitched at the end, tears resuming. 

“It’s okay, honey. They’ll understand. Everyone has accidents sometimes. Now come here,” Penelope said. She’s wrong, James thought, but it was so hard to think things weren’t okay when listening to her speak. He sniffled, saying nothing, as she took his hand and led him into the women’s room. 

“This is the women’s restroom!” James whisper-yelled. 

“Hush, now. I’m taking care of you and I’m a woman, so you can be here,” Penelope said, a firmer than before. James shut up quickly, regretting questioning her and embarrassed at being reduced to needing taken to the bathroom, looking down at his feet and the wet streaks down his legs. 

“Come here,” she said in her normal warm tone, opening the door of the handicapped stall. He obediently walked in, albeit fidgeting. “I’m going to go to Health Services to get something to clean you up with, honey. Can you take off your wet clothes by yourself while I’m gone?”

James blushed. “Y-yes…”

“Alright. I’ll be right back, hun.” 

As soon as Penelope left, James locked the door behind her and whimpered, lower lip trembling. I cannot believe I waited long enough to let this happen. He looked in the mirror at his red eyes, frown, and loaner soiled suit. He’d never felt younger. He stepped away and fumbled with the fly of his pants. They came off, heavy with pee, as did his underwear. He checked his suit jacket for wetness but it seemed alright, thankfully. The shirt, tucked-in, had suffered some, but he didn’t want to get completely undressed and stood there fidgeting and feeling dirty. He hoped Penelope would think to bring him a bag.

He waited for what seemed like ages, but was less then ten minutes, before she came back through the door. 

“James?” she called, using his name for the first time.

“Here,” he replied, weakly. 

“Can I come in?”  
“I’m! I’m not wearing any pants,” he stammered. 

“…Alright, put this on and I’ll come in and clean you up.” She held what looked like a pull-up over the door. James immediately backpedaled. 

“No! Nononono. I don’t… need those. This has never happened before. I just need regular underwear,” he rambled. 

“Honey,” Penelope started, quieting him instantly. “I know you don’t need them, but Health Services doesn’t get this a lot at a college. They don’t stock adult-sized garments. I got this for you to wear until you can get back to your dorm.”

He was quiet for a minute. It seemed logical enough. He took the pull-up, looking it over. As he put it on, she continued: “And anyway, I thought it might make you feel a little more secure after what just happened.” James said nothing, but she was right. 

“Alright, I’ve… got it on. You can come in,” he said, unlocking the door. He felt stupid and vulnerable. No judgement crossed Penelope’s face, though. She advanced toward him. 

“Okay. Sit down and I’ll clean you up,” she told him, holding one or two wet wipes. He wanted to say he could do it himself or that she didn’t have to do that, but… he liked being cared for by her, so he quietly sat on the toilet. The thicker-than-usual garment combined with sitting on a toilet “clothed” made it an interesting sensation. Partway through, she noticed the wet hem of his shirt. “Honey, you got some on your shirt.”

“I can’t take it off. I don’t have anythin’ else to change into. I promise I’ll clean up as soon as I get to my dorm…” James whined. Penelope gave him a stern look, clearly dissatisfied with the sanitation of that prospect, but he kept her fixed with puppy dog eyes until she let the matter go.

She ran the wipes up and down each of his legs, and his feet, making him giggle when she did his toes. “There! All clean, hun.” 

“Thank you,” he murmured. She moved back again, and unfolded a bag. 

“This is for your wet things,” Penelope told him. James looked at her for a solid five seconds before realizing he should help, nearly jumping off the toilet seat when he did. 

“O-okay! Here,” he said, blushing when she giggled, before picking up the sopping clothing and dumping it, shoes and all, into the bag. 

“Don’t wash the shoes, but everything else could go into the washer. Your suit jacket is okay?” she questioned. James nodded in response. 

“How far is your dorm from here?” Penelope continued, softly. A concerned look crossed James’s face. 

“Not… too far… but… but… what if people ask why I’m not at the meeting… I can’t go back into the meeting, I know I should but I can’t…” James confessed, tearing up again. “What if someone sees me with the bag and makes fun of me? What if-“ 

“Shh, shh,” Penelope comforted, wiping away a tear when one fell. “I’ll take you back to your dorm. If you want, I can help you explain what happened later on.” 

“Oh god, I’m making you miss the meeting, too!!” James cried, searching her face for her thoughts on the matter. 

“It’s okay. You need someone to take care of you.” James only whimpered in response. He couldn’t refute it. 

“I brought a skirt, too, because I couldn’t decide what to wear. I’ll change into that and you can put on my pants. They’ll fit. And then I’ll take you home. How does that sound?” James nodded, still tearful, in response. Penelope dug open her bag for the skirt and quickly changed, handing the pants to James. 

She hovered right beside him as he put them on, a hand near his arm in case he became unsteady. It made him feel embarrassed, but also… good. Penelope was right and the pants fit. He felt much less self conscious with the pull-up hidden. It did make him feel secure. Like just in case something were to happen again, no one would know this time. 

“Let’s go, then, hun,” Penelope said as she grabbed her bag. 

James picked up the bag of wet clothes. “Can we walk quickly, please?” he asked, nervous about seeing anyone or having anyone ask questions. 

“Of course.” Penelope led them out of the building, which was thankfully less-used this time of day. James, scared, started crying again outside, but they took the back route to the dorm and only saw people from afar. Penelope reassured him by rubbing his arm calmingly, which would’ve helped were it not for the scenarios of altercation constantly running through James’s head. 

Finally, finally, he darted up his stairwell, outpacing Penelope by taking the stairs three at a time, and nearly running down the hall to his room. Shaky fingers unlocked the door, which allowed Penelope to catch up, and the two spilled into James’s room. He let out a breath of relief upon establishing that his roommate was not there, locked the door, and sat down on the floor with his head in his hands, needing to cry just a bit more. Penelope was right there beside him, and rubbed his back and murmured gentle comforts to him for a few minutes before he felt comfortable enough to lean into her. From there, she rocked him back and forth and pet his hair until he felt calm again. 

“T’ank you, Penelope…” he whispered after quite a while like that. 

“You promised me you’d clean up now. Get into some nice pajamas for me, and I’ll take my pants back.” 

“Otay,” James mumbled, reluctantly standing up. He walked the few feet to his dresser before shedding all of the business clothes. He left the pull-up on, telling himself that it was because he didn’t want Penelope to see him totally naked, underneath his pajamas. He added his shirt to the “wet” pile and handed Penelope her dress pants. 

“Good boy,” she praised him. “Now, are you alright on your own?”

“Yeah, Penelope,” James answered, sheepishly. “I’ll just… go put these in the wash and take it easy tonight.”

“That sounds like a good plan. Here’s my number. Call me if you need anything, or want some help, alright, honey?” 

James took the business card that she proffered to him. He was surprised. He didn’t have business cards. But he was also in a pull-up. “Okay,” was all he could think to answer.

Penelope gave him a warm smile and made to leave. “Well, honey, I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” she said on her way out.

**Author's Note:**

> fun facts: though this fic was written 04/2017, the idea for the fic came about in 06/2015. 
> 
> The original idea was much more omorashi and much less ageplay but hey I guess that's the kind of mood 042017 was in. Interestingly it's VERY similar in theme to another fic I'm posting tonight even though they were written a year apart and I never noticed until now.


End file.
